


Blown Fuse

by Sourlander



Series: Unknown Limits [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Poe Dameron - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourlander/pseuds/Sourlander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morap Bendar is a student at the First Order's Academy when the Order forces him to change the way he sees the world around him forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This three part story was inspired by @auroralynne and her beautiful picture of Meelan and Morap Bendar. Auroralynne is an amazing artist and a great person! Please go and check out her blog!
> 
> So…. here goes…

_How the winds are laughing_

_They laugh with all their might_

 

They had not been allowed to return home when the news had reached them. At least not right away. Morap knew exactly why that was. It would send the wrong message. He sat there in one of the countless corridors on one of the hard benches staring down at the highly polished dark grey floor. The droid responsible for cleaning had passed him some time ago. He was almost certainly out of bounds. He should be in bed by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and join the other boys in his dormitory. The looks they had thrown at him as he and Meelan had been told to come to the front during Assembly and the entire rest of the day were all he could take.

 

_It barely ever happened that anyone was told to come to the front. Everyone knew what awaited those who broke the rules and no one was keen on suffering the consequences for a serious offence. In Morap Bendar’s memory it had only ever happened twice that one of their number was called out during Assembly, which took place each and every morning of the week before breakfast. Morap felt his heart pounding in his chest as he stepped forward and left the security of the other seventh years’ cover. He felt cold sweat running down his neck and tried to remember what he, and most of all his brother Meelan could have done to make General Brendol Hux, Chancellor of the First Order’s Academy, demand the brothers to join him on the stage._

_Morap saw Meelan approach the aisle dividing the two sections of students. They met but didn’t dare look at each other. Quietly, hands behind their backs, they walked towards the podium. Morap didn’t understand any of this. Why, if he had done something against the rules, was Meelan asked to report to Hux as well? He kept his head held high and his face as impassive as possible as he got closer to Hux and the teachers assembled behind him. When they reached the stairs he let Meelan go first. His older brother only met his eyes for a second and Morap saw immediately that the older one was just as worried as he was._

_Morap wanted to do nothing more than wipe his sweaty hands on his pants but that was out of the question. Everyone would see. Everyone would know that he was scared out of his wits. He had seen the punishment one of his classmates had had to endure for trying to sneak off the Academy’s property one night to meet with one of the girls from the other building and the mere memory was enough to trigger his vivid imagination. Would they whip him in front of his entire year as well? Would he scream like that other boy? Would he be expelled? And Meelan? What about him?_

_One moment’s hesitation before climbing the stairs himself was enough to earn him a stern look from Hux. He wanted to drop his gaze but knew that he wasn’t allowed to do so. So he stood next to Meelan who wasn’t much taller than him. despite being two years older, and faced the rows of students. They were divided into three sections. The Juniors were standing on the far right of the assembly hall. Students aged between nine and twelve could be seen standing rigid and facing straight ahead. In the centre section, which Morap had come from, he could see his own classmates in the classes including boys from ages thirteen to sixteen and Meelan’s section, consisting of students from seventeen to twenty one, on the left side of the hall. All their faces were apparently impassive but Morap could feel their jeering and their silent laughter and he knew that his cheeks were glowing with embarrassment._

_“Lieutenant Morap Bendar, Captain Meelan Bendar?” Hux’  deep voice echoed eerily through the high ceilinged hall._

_“Yes, Sir!”, they shouted in unison. Morap took every effort to stand as perfectly upright as his brother, his back straight and his shoulders stiff, but he knew that he was making a horrible impression with his cheeks burning and the lose button on his uniform jacket. He hadn’t had time to have that fixed and now he regretted not even trying to make the effort._

_Hux surveyed them with a stern gaze and his eyes lingered for a moment on Morap’s lose button. Then he turned around to face the other students. “Two days ago,” Hux began and Morap had to fight the urge to look at his classmates for support which he wouldn’t find there. What was going on here? Morap saw from the corner of his eye that Meelan at his right held his chin up high at exactly the right angle. Meelan was the perfect officer. That was why he occupied the rank of Captain in his class and why Morap had not once made it past Lieutenant in any year at the Academy. Morap had to force himself to listen to what Hux was saying. What had happened two days ago?Nothing out of the ordinary had happened... “The First Order received intelligence of a traitor in our ranks.”_

_Morap felt his hands shaking. What had any of this to do with him or Meelan? He knew that the teachers standing behind him could see that his fingers were trembling and held on tight._

_“We soon discovered that an officer in the Corps of Engineers, who has been working for the First Order since the very beginning, was planning on smuggling battleship blueprints to the Resistance!” Hux paused for a moment. Giving the students and of course the Bendar brothers time to fully comprehend what Hux had said. A traitor in their midst. Someone they had thought they could trust! Someone they knew! An ally had changed sides. And suddenly Morap understood why he was here. Why Meelan was here. He shot his brother a look and regretted it immediately. His brother was still staring straight ahead, his face vacant of any emotion. Just as Morap’s should be at this very moment! Morap turned his head back forwards immediately, and realized too late that his lips were slightly parted. He quickly closed his mouth. But Hux had seen it. Of course he had. Morap tried to brace himself for what was sure to come next and knew that he’d never be able to look as nonchalant about all of this as his brother._

_“Commander Aarkis Bendar,” Hux said and with an icy shudder Morap had to force himself to breathe normally, even though his chest was aching from keeping back the screams of frustration and protest at what Hux was about to say. “was found guilty of treason and executed this morning.”_

_Executed..._ executed!? _Morap felt like he had missed a step while walking down a flight of stairs. His knees would surely give way any moment but he couldn’t allow them to! He just couldn’t. Not right now. He blinked violently to get rid of the tears shooting to his eyes. Dead... his father was dead. Just like that. Trying very hard to keep his breathing as steady as possible he finally managed to stand up straight. He knew why Hux had ordered him and Meelan to stand here. To make an example of them and even if Morap felt like curling up on the floor here and there, trying to hide from the prying eyes of his classmates, he knew that he was not allowed to do that. He wasn’t even allowed to flinch, to allow his mouth to twitch. This could mean the difference between life and death for him and his brother._

 

Morap could still feel the pounding in his chest. The urge to scream out at the universe. To ask why he was feeling so numb. So detached from the world around him and at the same time like he was bleeding to death internally from the pain of it. When he closed his eyes he saw his father’s face. The boyish features and the red hair with its grey streaks. He could even hear his voice and that was probably the worst of it: to know that he would never hear that voice again. To know that the big warm hands would never again pat his shoulders. That those light brown eyes would never look at his mother with twinkle in mischief in them. He felt like the lump in his throat was suffocating him but he knew that he couldn’t let himself go like this. He wasn’t supposed to cry. Wasn’t supposed to grieve for his father. His father was a traitor.  A villain... only that it didn’t feel like it.

Of course the accusations must have been justified, he told himself. Of course they would never have accused his father without proof. But all of this felt wrong. Morap felt like he was drowning in an ocean of uncertainty and heartache, all of which was inexcusable. His father had betrayed the First Order and deserved what he got. But still... Aarkis Bendar hadn’t been an evil person and it just felt wrong that he would never see him again. They had parted only a couple of weeks ago when the school holidays had ended.

Had his father already planned on turning against the Order then? Had he known that he might not see his sons again? Morap did not know and there were too many questions and not enough answers.

            Morap spotted a miniscule crack in the floor beneath his feet. And finally, after an entire day spent in the company of his classmates pretending that nothing had happened whatsoever, after pledging his allegiance to the Order along with the other students in the morning, after standing in front of all of them reciting what had to be recited, he felt hot tears running down his cheeks and a dry sob fought its way out of his throat. His father was dead and he wasn’t supposed to feel miserable. Not about this. Not about anything. He only wished he had gotten the chance to say goodbye and most of all, and he was ashamed to admit it, he wished Hux hadn’t made an example of him and his brother in front of the entire school. He wasn’t allowed to grieve, he wasn’t allowed to be alone with his agony. His doubts.

            He pressed his lips tightly together, tasting his own tears, trying to hold in the sobs and moans that shook his entire body. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel anything but the stabbing pain deep inside his chest. And he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop the shaking, or the sobs or the tears. Not even when he heard footsteps approach. He’d get into trouble for this but even the idea of expulsion couldn’t get him to move. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. The patrol units consisting of older students were in charge of the corridors during night time. This one would surely send him straight into the detention block.

            “Cadet, what are you-“

            Four black, shiny boots had entered his field of vision. He didn’t look up. He knew he should. He knew he should stand up straight, but he was unable to even wipe his face.

            “Morap...” A familiar voice. His brother’s voice... but there was someone else there so Morap kept his stinging eyes fixed on his own boots. “Could you give us a minute?” One pair of boots went away and after a few moments Morap managed to lift his head.

            So Meelan and one of his classmates were on patrol duty tonight. That was a lucky break for a change... or was it? Meelan looked down at him with a stern expression on his face. He grabbed Morap by the collar and pulled him up. “What are you doing here?” Meelan hissed and Morap freed himself with a jerk.

            “I-“, he began but he couldn’t go on. He just couldn’t make his trembling lips do anything but keep the sobs in.

            “Sh...” Meelan put his hand gently on Morap’s shoulder and when Morap looked up at his brother he saw something there he hadn’t seen since Meelan left for the Academy two years before he himself had been sent here seven years ago. Worry and something like fear. But it was only there for a moment and after another minute Meelan let go of him. “Let me take you back to your dormitory.” It wasn’t an order exactly and Morap knew immediately that he would not get punished by Meelan or his other classmate who was obviously Meelan’s junior, but was also fully aware that his trespass had not gone unnoticed and that his superior might very well put him in detention or something far worse. But still... it seemed like a small price to pay for this short moment with his brother.

            “And wipe your face.” Meelan reached into his uniform’s chest pocket, pulled out a standard issue handkerchief and pressed it into Morap’s trembling hand. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”


	2. Blown Fuse - Part II

** Blown Fuse **

_ Part II _

__

_Why don’t you have wings to fly with_

_Like the swallow so proud and free_

 

“I told you to be friends with him, not start a fight. Seriously. What were you thinking?!”

            Morap bit on his lip to hold back a retort. _Shut up, you’re not my father!_ That was exactly what he wanted to say to his brother, but he couldn’t. The phrase itself was too painful. The word _father_ alone was too much to take. He flinched every time he heard it. The wound, his father’s death had left, was still too fresh and the worst part was, that it should not even be there. But it was. And that had brought him into this situation. On this transport back home.

            “You do realize that our situation was bad enough as it was before you flipped, but now I stand next to no chance in advancing in the Order. Thanks to you!” Meelan was furious and not just with Morap. Meelan was angry at his brother, his father and the whole universe in general.

The worst part was probably, that Morap didn’t even care. Not really anyway. He didn’t even know how he felt about being sent home. About being expelled. About not knowing how to live out the rest of his life. At least, he thouorcedght, he was too old to be asked to serve as a Stormtrooper now.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Morap shrugged and looked out of the window. He wouldn’t even have cared if this speeder was flown by a person who would be able to follow Meelan’s ranting. They were very close to their home now. Their mother had been alerted to their arrival and Morap had no idea how he felt about seeing her again either. Nora Feedo Bendar was the daughter of one of Emperor Palpatine’s bodyguards. She had fallen madly in love with Captain Aarkis Bendar when she was very young, but their rather spontaneous marriage had only been a happy one for as long as the Empire flourished. After the Battle of Endor, they had fled to the Unknown Regions with their sons and Aarkis had joined the First Order but had never been more than a Commander in the Corps of Engineers, which had only frustrated his wife. Morap and Meelan had often seen their parents fight over their father’s apparent lack of ambition. Nora and Aarkis had only ever fought about that. Ambition. Not Devotion...

Now the unthinkable had happened. Adding to everything their father had done, Morap had gotten himself expelled from the Academy shortly afterwards and Meelan was suspended for a week. Chancellor Hux had told them that they could call themselves lucky that they got off so easily.

Morap scoffed. He still felt his brother’s eyes on him, but he just couldn’t return the other’s gaze. He knew he had gotten his brother into this situation, but feeling sorry about it was completely out of the question.

 

_Captain Armitage Hux’ sneered at him, his green eyes twinkling with a malice which made Morap’s insides burn with a hitherto unknown rage._

_“I’m just saying,_ Lieutenant, _” Hux said the last word with a snarling grin on his face. They were supposed to call each other by their ranks, but Hux used it as an insult. “If your father is a traitor, you’re most likely one as well, aren’t you? I mean you have no ambition, just like him apparently.”_

_Morap turned his back to Hux, even though he knew that this was probably the biggest mistake he could possibly make. He just couldn’t stand looking his classmate in the eye. He couldn’t stand looking anyone in the eye for that matter. Not anymore. “Shut up...”, he said under his breath. They were standing in the courtyard, surrounded by the other boys in his class and Morap could see his brother approaching with a worried look on his face. To see any trace of emotion on his brother’s face was so unusual that Morap couldn’t help but stare at him._

_“What did you just say to me, Lieutenant? And how dare you turn your back on me when I’m talking to you?”_

_Meelan was drawing nearer now, pushed some of the boys aside and Morap could see nothing but his brother, could hear nothing but Hux’ words ringing in his ears and felt his muscles tense._

_“I said-“, he began and turned around slowly so he didn’t have to look at Meelan anymore, who was only feet away now, “SHUT UP!” He clenched his shaking fists and stood there, facing Hux, the Chancellor’s son, his superior in rank, and knew that what he was doing here would get him into serious trouble. He couldn’t care less. “How dare you insult my father-“ He broke off, knowing fully well that he was risking his neck._

_“Your father was a dirty turncoat-“_

_“Morap-“ He heard his brother’s voice but didn’t listen. All he could think about was Hux and how good it would feel to hurt him. To wipe that smug smile off that loathsome face. Within a second he was on top of Hux, tackling him to the ground. He heard an intake of breath from the surrounding boys, saw Hux’ eyes widen in shock and felt his fists connect with that disgusting rat’s face. Punching every part of Hux he could reach, he was oblivious to everything around him and when someone pulled him off Hux he knew that it wasn’t his brother. Meelan was standing somewhere to his right. Unmoving. As detached as ever._

_Hux got to his feet and Morap could see the look of utter humiliation on the other’s face. That was even more satisfying than watching the blood trickle out of the corner of Hux’ mouth. “You’ll pay for this...” Hux said quietly. Morap saw the way his fellow classmates were looking at him and he didn’t mind. Hux had lost this fight. For once Hux had lost. For once Captain Armitage Hux felt almost as humiliated as Morap had done these last couple of weeks._

Not being allowed to talk about it to his classmates, or his brother. Not being allowed to feel. Not being allowed to grieve, or to think made him feel like he was drowning in desperation. He had to pay close attention to how he behaved even more than usual, had to ignore his classmates’ whispers and open hostility and pretend like he hated his father for what he had done.

            Only that he didn’t. He didn’t hate his father and couldn’t bring himself to do so. He loved his father despite everything and with every passing day he felt something he couldn’t quite place growing inside of him. A roaring creature just waiting to strike out at the first person offering himself up to take the blame for all of this. For the sobs he had to swallow before they could emerge when he was lying in bed. For the tears constantly stinging in his eyes whenever he hear the word _father_. For sensing that his world was falling apart and that there was nothing at all he could do about it. Hux had been his victim. It could have been everyone, but with his usual instinct of tempting fate he had broken one of Armitage Hux’ teeth in front of everyone. The Chancellor’s son. The consequences had been harsh and prompt.

Only that Morap didn’t care about any of this. He only wanted to go back home. To see his mother and be allowed to talk to her. She was bound to be just as devastated as he was.

            When the speeder landed in front of the semi detached house, his mother opened the front door and stepped outside. Meelan threw a vicious look at him and got out first, his bag in hand. Morap followed suit, his knees shaking. Finally he’d be able to ask questions. To ask about what had happened and what his mother thought about all of this. Morap had been sure at first that his father was bound to have done something wrong, but now he felt this had come too sudden. It felt out of place and he hated to admit it even to himself, but Morap couldn’t shake the notion that the Order might have been too quick in sentencing his father.

            Morap grabbed his own bag and got out of the speeder, which lifted off the ground as soon as he had left it. Meelan was standing in front of their mother, her hands on his shoulders and they were talking quietly to each other. Morap couldn’t hear a word they were saying. Nora was looking at her eldest son with something like disappointment on her face and for a moment she looked just like Meelan with her dark brown eyes staring earnestly into her son’s and her brow slightly furrowed.

            Hesitantly Morap approached his only living relatives. The only people who still cared about how he felt, or so he thought. Nora let go of Meelan and looked him up and down, her face utterly expressionless at the sight of him. “Mother...”, he said quietly, but Nora shook her head.

            “I do not want to hear it”, she said quietly and Morap stared at her with an open mouth. She was returning his look with her lips tightly pressed together. She was furious at him, he realized with a sinking feeling. He had never seen her like this. Never! Only when she was angry with his father. He could see Meelan forcing himself not to say anything.

            “But-“ Morap began and before he could fully grasp what was happening, his mother had raised her hand and slapped him so hard in the face, that he crashed to the ground and felt his nose connect with the duroconcrete of their driveway. A violent pain shot up his nose and before he fully realized what had happened he felt something hot pour out of his nostrils and tears stinging in his eyes. He couldn’t say anything, only felt the weight of the heavy bag on his side and the pain emanating from the centre of his face. He blinked and saw his mother’s feet head for the house.

            Breathing through his mouth and tasting his own blood, hot and disgusting on his tongue he sat up and the next moment he saw Meelan’s concerned face close to his own. “Are you alright?”

            Morap flinched when he felt Meelan’s hand on his forehead and his brother’s dark brown eyes widen in shock as he withdrew his hand and saw blood on it. Morap shook his head slightly and sat up again. Immediately Meelan’s arm was around his shoulders. If Meelan was angry with him, then he didn’t appear to be willing to show it at the moment. Morap knew he’d have to face his brother sooner rather than later, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed by what his mother had done to be able to think about Meelan’s change of attitude. He wiped his mouth with his uniform sleeve, fully aware that he had no use of that piece of clothing anymore anyway, and winced when he accidentally touched his nose. Meelan’s arm were warm around his shoulders and he could feel his brother’s breath in his hair.

            “I’m okay...” Morap said, his eyes watering. His mother had never hit him.. She had been angry with him before, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced and being thrown to the ground by the very same person he had hoped to share his misery with was beyond endurance. Had he seen hatred in her eyes? He couldn’t be sure but shuddered at the very thought of entering his family home.

            “You have to be careful,” Meelan whispered and Morap looked up at him, stemming the flow of blood with his sleeve as best he could and ruining it forever in the process.

            “What? Why? I was expelled from the Academy, in case you forgot.” He could barely understand a word he was saying himself with the fabric over his mouth and nose. His head was pounding and he felt like his nose would fall off any moment. He just kept staring at his brother who was as serious as Morap had never seen him in his life.

            Meelan shook his head and threw a look at the open front door. Their mother would surely be waiting inside for them and Morap didn’t even want to think about what would happen next. Not at all. Meelan looked back at him, his eyes calm but penetrating him as if he was trying to tell him something without speaking. But Morap had no idea what his brother _was_ trying to tell him.

            “What?!”, he asked, feeling the anger rise up inside him once more. “What’s wrong with h-“

            “Don’t be an idiot!” Meelan snapped quietly and Morap fell silent immediately. He wasn’t used to fighting back against his older brother or anyone really for that matter. Hux had been an exception. “Who do you think alerted the authorities, Morap?”

            “I don’t-“ he trailed off and felt his eyes widen in comprehension. He looked at the house in the middle of a street inhabited by engineers and their families. On a planet in control of the First Order. In a galaxy in which the Order was doing everything it could to return to former glory. And his mother had always been a passionate citizen of the Order. Passionate about the cause. Passionate about the Order and everything it stood for. Morap’s memory of her shouting at his father about his _lack of_ ambition was triggered when he saw her standing in the doorway again. When he heard her tell her sons to come inside already. She left.

            Morap looked at Meelan who nodded. “Be careful. Don’t lash out at her.” He helped Morap get to his feet, who staggered and would have fallen over had Meelan not held him upright. He felt dazed, like is body was in an entirely different place. Like his mind was not connected to his limbs, to his head...

His mother had betrayed his father? Why? He knew the answer and it made his insides clench. They hadn’t really gotten along. Never. But that was no reason to... Morap stumbled over his own thoughts.

Nora Feedo Bendar was loyal to the Order and when she had discovered what her husband had done, _she_ in turn had done the only thing she _could_ do! She had done damage control! That, at least, was what he was supposed to be thinking. That his mother had done the right thing. Only that it didn’t feel right.

            “I think your nose is broken.”

            “You don’t say,” scoffed Morap spluttering blood down his front. This was not a good start. Not at all. “But... she...” he stared at Meelan again who only shook his head. Of course Meelan was thinking what was expected of him and this revelation about the people he called family hit him hard. Morap felt like he was going to fall over again. “He was her husband...” He couldn’t keep himself from saying it out loud. From trying to wrap his head around the fact that _he_ alone seemed to sense that all of this was wrong! He _alone_ thought that betraying one’s husband, or brother was completely out of the question. What was wrong with _him_?!

            “Don’t talk about it anymore,” Meelan whispered quietly, suddenly sounding angry himself. “Don’t let anyone hear any of this. Stop thinking like this!”

            _Stop thinking like this_. And how was he supposed to do that? To stop thinking? His mind was racing as Meelan picked up both their bags and gently pushed him towards the front door. He couldn’t turn off his brain! He couldn’t keep himself from looking at the small house he had spent his childhood in, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He could still taste the blood. He still felt the throbbing pain in his nose and temple. Most of all he felt the anguish at staying here in this house indefinitely with _her_.

He had looked forward to coming home in a way. Had been relieved to be somewhere where he would be allowed to be who he really was and not who the First Order was forcing him to be. Morap felt a slight pat on his shoulder. Meelan... Meelan didn’t feel this way, he was sure. Not at all. It made Morap feel even more out of place than he did already.

            From the corner of his eye he saw the little droid his father had built sitting in the corner. Aarkis Bendar had taken Morap with him into his workshop and shown him how he had modified the droid to help him with his work. The sight made Morap tear up again, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the droid, which appeared to be in sleep mode. Aarkis had told Morap that he was going to paint the droid in orange and white, an unusual colour combination, as far as Morap was concerned, but his father had never been an ordinary person. That must have been the problem. The droid still had next to no paint on it. Just the head was painted white.

            “Go and wash your face before dinner.” All of a sudden his mother was standing in front of him again, her face expressionless and her green eyes dispassionate. Morap couldn’t remember ever seeing her like this... or perhaps he had never looked at her with a sense of desperation, distrust and fear.

            He nodded quietly and headed off for the communal bathroom on the ground floor. The tiles were as white and shiny as ever. His mother sent the cleaning droids through the house each and every day, keeping it spotless. Only now, for the first time in his life, did Morap realize that the whole place had a sense of emptiness about it, which oddly resonated within his very being. He avoided looking at his own reflection in the mirror and heard his mother and Meelan talking softly in the kitchen next door. After having washed his face as best he could without touching his nose he slipped out the bathroom as quietly as he could and moved towards the stairs.

            “They searched the entire house,” he heard his mother say to his brother and clenched his fists. He didn’t want to hear this. Not her words. Not her voice which told him that she didn’t care about her husband. Not really. But he still stayed put. Listening. “They couldn’t find anything of importance in his workshop, though. I believe they found all the evidence they needed in his office.”

            Morap swallowed hard and went on up the stairs to his small bedroom. He had to change at least. He was not going to approach his mother all soaked in blood. It would only aggravate her further. Morap opened the closet and took a quick look at the few items of clothing he possessed. A couple of unicoloured jumpers and two pairs of trousers. The ones he was wearing now looked perfectly alright. He just needed to change out of his uniform jacket then. His nose, gratefully, wasn’t bleeding anymore, but he didn’t dare touch it in case the bleeding started up again. The throbbing pain kept reminding him of what had happened. He remembered it. He still felt it, but he coulnd’t believe it. Everything was happening too fast. Everything was falling apart so quickly and he had no chance of keeping up. He felt like he himself was falling without being able to hold on to something. Anything.

            _Stop thinking like this_.

            But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking and he couldn’t stop wrecking his brain about the fact that his world seemed to have shifted and all of a sudden he didn’t seem to understand anything anymore.

            With trembling fingers he opened the soaked uniform jacket. Downstairs he heard the clattering of plates. He should be helping his mother and brother, he knew, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the idea of looking them in the eye again. As he took out one of his maroon jumpers he felt something clatter to the floor. Morap blinked and looked down at the circular object now lying at his feet. Slowly he bent down to pick it up and he felt like his head would burst from this tiny effort. A tiny holo projector. Morap gulped, understanding what this must be. He looked at the door again, which was slightly ajar, moved over to it and closed it, his heart drumming wildly in his chest. After closing the door as quietly as he could he sat down on the floor, the holo projector cool in his hands. He breathed heavily and took a look at the room around him. It had a strangely abandoned feel about it. Of course it did. The books he had read as a child were gone now, had been handed down to another generation as soon as he entered the Academy. This room was his, yet it didn’t feel like it. Somehow it was too clean, like the dormitory at the Academy. But it felt familiar in a sense too. He didn’t know anything else after all and looking at, whatever it was that this holo projector was waiting to show him, might very well shatter even more of his world.

            His  thumb didn’t feel like it belonged to him as he pushed the button. This was a message from his father, he was sure of it. Or it was something, some instructions for staying alive in the Order... Morap didn’t know, he only understood that he might very well not grow very old in his current surroundings. The projector came to life with a slight humming and Morap felt his heart contract in agony as he saw a tiny projection of his father. Tall and strong as ever. His hair in slight disarray, the curls fighting their way out of the layer of pomade. Morap gulped, tried to keep breathing normally. A recording... a message from his father!

            “Morap,” Aarkis Bendar said and the voice, which was so well known to Morap, seemed to ring in his ears. His name. His name, coming from the father’s lips, was the introduction to the last words he’d ever hear from him. Morap pressed his lips tightly together, denying them the chance to let out the whimper that was building up inside of him. But he couldn’t breathe...not through his nose anyway. He quickly took a couple of breaths through his mouth as he looked into his father’s eyes.

            Aarkis was smiling. “I know that, if this reaches you, I may not be alive anymore. I hope that you get this message and that your mother didn’t look through your closet and found it. I’m sorry to say it, but I can’t trust her anymore. So much has happened... it is hard to put it into words and I don’t have a lot of time.”

            His heart rate was increasing now and he felt every bone in his body ache for something he could never have again. A hug. A kind word. This was neither. This was a message from his father confirming what Meelan had told Morap.

            “If you ever need help, if you ever feel like you need to get away from here and if you feel like your brother does too, leave. I never wanted this for you. Any of this. That’s why I made a deal. I need you to go Corellia. There you have to find Wedge Antilles. He will help you. Both of you. I’m sorry for what I’m putting you through. I’m sorry for not being there for you. I wanted to take you and Meelan away from here. To live in a better place. I’m sorry I can’t...” Aarkis, his thin lips suddenly trembling, held up his right hand. His hands had been able to create and invent so many wonderful things... Morap hadn’t inherited this trait, he was clumsy and positively inept when it came to building things. He regretted not having asked his father more about construction in general. He regretted not being able to spend more time with him and most of all he regretted not being able to answer his father. The projection vanished.

Just like this. Just like the real Aarkis had vanished from his life. In an instant. Without a word of farewell.

            “Morap, come down to dinner!” Meelan’s voice.

It made Morap shake with something he couldn’t explain.

 

 

It took Morap three days to decide. Three days in which he felt like he was being watched constantly and he knew that he must be. Not only by Meelan, who was most likely watching _out_ for him, but also by his mother. _I can’t trust her anymore_ , his father had said in that message, which Morap now kept hidden beneath his thin mattress. _I can’t trust her anymore_.

            Morap knew exactly what his father had meant. It wasn’t that he didn’t occasionally feel like his mother didn’t care about him anymore, not at all, she had even set his nose and apologized, in her own miserable way, but Morap felt like something between them had shattered. Something which could never be repaired again.

            Meelan, he knew, was still fixed on rising in the First Order and Morap was sure that his brother would make it someday. That Meelan Bendar would make a great officer. He was sure, that Meelan could not be trusted with their father’s message. He would hand it in and then Morap would never be able to look at is father’s face ever again. That was something he couldn’t risk.

            During dinner on his last night he managed not to let anything show. He tried and for the first time in his life he succeeded. He knew that he was a lousy actor, but neither Meelan, nor Nora seemed to suspect anything. Morap didn’t even look at them when he went up to his bedroom long before they did. He went to bed, still fully dressed, and waited.

Occasionally his father had been sent to oversee repairs on damaged ships, often on short notice, and for that he had been provided with a small but fast ship capable of light speed. The ship hadn’t been confiscated yet and now it would be Morap’s means of getting away. Away from all of this. He still couldn’t quite believe that he was going to do it. When he thought about the coming hours he felt like he was going to be sick.

Outside his door he heard his brother’s footsteps and for a moment Morap wondered whether he should tell his brother about where he was going after all. About what he had to do. The Order didn’t need him. His mother didn’t want him... but Meelan? Morap wasn’t sure... Meelan was going to be furious.

No... Morap couldn’t tell Meelan any of this and most of all he couldn’t ask his brother to come along. He himself had no idea where he was headed. Corellia would be his destination of course, but what would happen to him once he got there?

Meelan wouldn’t help him. He’d try to stop him. He’d ruin Morap’s only chance of getting away from this place where he didn’t belong.

The door to Meelan’s room closed and Morap didn’t dare shut his eyes in case he fell asleep. Instead he stared at the ceiling and started counting. Once he was sure that both his mother and Meelan had to be asleep he crept out of bed. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, slipped out of his room as quietly as he could and went down the stairs. And then he stopped. The droid... the last thing his father had ever built and his mother had no use for it. No use for the droid which hadn’t even been painted yet. Maybe this was something he could use after all. Quietly he stepped towards the droid sitting beneath his mother’s jackets and scarves and activated it.

The spherical droid came to life almost instantly, it’s lights flashing and a low humming noise coming from the hidden speakers. Morap put a finger to his lips and stared at the droid, willing it to shut up. It did. This felt right somehow. This way he’d have something of his father’s with him.

“Hey, Beebee-Ate, right?”, he asked and made a quiet shushing noise to stop the droid from saying anything else in Binary. “I’m Morap. Do you want to come with me? I’m leaving this place and my... my father is sending me somewhere and I could use some help.”

The droid turned its head around once, this time without uttering a single sound. It had understood everything Morap had said! And it even adjusted to what was appropriate to the situation. This astromech actually might come in handy. Morap felt his spirits lift. He might leave his brother behind, but at least he wouldn’t be without a companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? This is the first time I'm actually writing about an OC in the Star Wars Universe, but I'm having a lot of fun writing it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s the last part of Morap’s story. I really enjoyed writing it. Special thanks to auroralynne.tumblr.com, whose drawing of Morap is propped up against the window in front of me as we speak. Thank you for giving Morap his beautiful face and dazzling smile and for making Meelan come to live as well with his stern expression and those intimidating eyes! :-*

_But whoever treasures freedom_

_Like the swallow has learned to fly_

 

Beebee-Ate complained loudly about being left behind. Morap sighed and bent down to the little droid. “You have to recharge sometimes, you know that.”

            A whining sound told Morap that Beebee-Ate wanted to come along anyway.

“I’m not carrying you back, lumpy.” Morap answered, smiling brightly.

Beebe let his head drop and he rolled backwards towards his socket. Sometimes he reminded Morap of the pet he’d never had.

“Don’t start sulking. I polished you and now you just need to recharge. We’re going on another patrol tomorrow and I need you ready for everything.” Morap winked at the droid even though he felt a pang of guilt. This didn’t happen that often anymore, it had been seven years after all, but from time to time he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever see his brother again. If and when the Order launched an attack on the Republic, like some people feared, would he come face to face with Meelan? He was fully aware that the chances of that happening were very slim. The galaxy was huge and the odds of him having to confront that particular officer out of thousands were so very much in his favour... but still. The universe was funny that way sometimes.

Morap zipped up his green jacket. He was off duty now after a long day of going over flight data in a cramped office and a seemingly endless debriefing on the work which had to be done over the coming week. This bright green jacket was his favourite. He loved colours. All of them, but he couldn’t get enough of this particular tinge of forest green.  On the way to the door he almost tripped over one of his shoes. Cursing quietly he kicked it out of the way. This place was messy, even for his standards, but he simply couldn’t get himself to tidy it up. He looked around his small apartment again. It wasn’t big exactly and located very close to the Republic’s permanent base on Corellia. He lived in the barracks when he and his comrades were stationed on any other planet, but this tiny apartment was his home and he was glad about having a place of his own. Even if, and maybe even because, he knew that the Order wouldn’t approve, especially not of the countless objects strewn over the apartment’s floor and colourful pictures adorning every space of wall available. Of course the Order wouldn’t approve of anything he had done these last seven years and Morap couldn’t help but feel proud of what he had accomplished. He had escaped, had managed to find Wedge Antilles and eventually, after reading up everything on the Order and the Republic he could, he had joined the New Republic’s navy. It hadn’t even felt weird to sign up. He was used to military life, but everything seemed to be a little bit more easy going in the New Republic and he could be himself while doing what he did best. He had always been fairly good during flying lessons at the Academy, but here had had become good enough to be promoted quickly and to be appreciated among his colleagues. Not only because of his skills, because they genuinely liked him. He had even met a man with whom he’d allowed himself to fall in love for a short time, before it had ended for no real apparent reason. It had taken Morap a long time of getting used to this. Of getting used to having friends and not having to worry about how he moved or talked or what he might let slip by accident. Over time he had even become positively cheerful and seeing himself smile in the mirror more often than not, had taken some getting used to as well. But still there were moments when he wondered what had happened to Meelan or his mother. When he was worried about what they had gone through and suffered because of his betrayal and every time he did he felt like he should go back. But he knew that he couldn’t. Not only, because they wouldn’t want him back, or because he knew that he’d be executed on the spot just like his father had been, but mainly because he didn’t want to leave all of this behind. His apartment. His friends. His freedom.

Freedom. Sometimes he still had problems grasping the concept. Especially in times like these, when he had an evening off and didn’t have to work until late the next morning. When he was allowed to sleep in and especially when he could leave what felt like all of his possessions pell-mell scattered all over the floor. He kept everything as clean as possible though. That was something he hadn’t been able to shake. It was a weird combination, but it worked for him. Clean chaos.

Whenever one of his friends came over and saw how untidy his place was, he told them that he was making a statement. Of course no one but him, or Commander Antilles, who still came by occasionally to check up on him, knew what Morap meant by that. No one but Antilles knew where Morap had come from and Morap was intend on not telling anyone. Ever. That time of his life was over for good. The only thing he had kept from this other life was Beebee-Ate, the droid his father had built.

Morap looked around the apartment once more, at the shoe he had kicked away, at the pictures of X-Wings, of planets he had been to and other memorabilia and realized, not for the first time, that he was genuinely happy.

 

 

When he walked into the cantina he saw immediately that he’d have a hard time getting to the bar and ordering a beer. The place was packed with humanoids and other sentient species from across the galaxy. Morap had needed some time to adjust to this diversity as well. In the First Order’s domain every creature which wasn’t human was considered inferior and it had taken him years to move comfortably in heterogeneous groups like this one and a bit longer to appreciate that this kind of interaction between species was actually worth exploring. That he could learn from those who looked completely different from him.

            It took him a couple of minutes to push through the crowd of people chatting loudly in various languages while trying to get themselves heard over the blaring music. When he finally reached the bar he held up one finger to indicate to Zuess the Utai barkeeper that he wanted a beer. The black eyes surveyed Morap, then Zuess nodded and reached under the counter to take out one bottle. “Really crowded in here tonight,” Morap said over the noise and Zuess nodded before heading off to attend to another costumer, when Morap had paid him.

Looking around he felt like going home again after all. There were too many people around here for his liking. He spotted two pilots from his squadron at the other side of the bar and when they saw him they waved him over and Morap just started moving towards them, when he heard someone say: “I can fly anything!”

            Surprised at this bold statement Morap turned around with raised eyebrows and felt like he was hit over the head by a club when he saw the young man sitting at the bar, his curly dark hair falling into his face. Their eyes met just for an instant, but to Morap it was like that short eye contact which couldn’t have lasted more than a fraction of a second, had frozen him in place. He held on tight to his bottle and tried to remember how to move. How to walk.

            “Seriously,” the man said, looking back at the woman leaning at the bar next to where the man was sitting, a bottle of beer in his hand. “Anything.” The man looked down at his bottle and started peeling off the label, when the woman put an arm around his shoulders. His face was bright red and Morap wondered for a moment what was going on exactly.

            “Have you ever-“ She began, throwing back her blonde hair and the man shook his head.

            “I don’t want to give you a list, okay?” He sounded annoyed. Annoyed with his companion and annoyed with the conversation he was having. He looked up again and when his and Morap’s eyes met again, when Morap’s heart made a giant leap, the man’s eyes widened for a moment and Morap knew at once that the man wanted him to do something. To interfere. To help him.

“Hey...” The man called out to him and raised a hand in greeting. “Eh.. babe!”

            Morap swallowed. Hard. He hadn’t expected this! Not at all! There was one moment in which he could have turned around and vanished, leaving the man to his solitary struggle of getting away from that woman, but before he could decide on anything she turned around and her grey eyes fixated on him.

            “Oh...”, she said, her lips pursed sulkily.

            Morap smiled weakly and stared wide eyed at the man, who didn’t look at him anymore, but at the woman who merely shrugged and took off after saying a hasty goodbye. Feeling like he couldn’t possibly walk away now in case she threw them another glance and simply because he couldn’t hold himself back, Morap approached the bar again, clutching his beer tightly in his hand. “So... babe...”, he said quietly, his smile growing into a grin, while he could feel his pulse in his fingertips. “What’s your name again? I know we’ve been in a relationship for months, but I keep forgetting.” He was feeling bolder now and the man returned his smile. A smile which made Morap’s heart miss a beat. He had never thought that something like this could actually happen. That meeting someone and feeling like something heavy had just been dropped on the top his head wasn’t something that only happened in fiction.

            “I’m Poe,” the other man said smiling. He hesitated for a moment and winked stupidly. Morap couldn’t help but realize that the other had stopped trying to peel off the label of the bottle he was holding. “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

            “No worries,” said Morap shrugging as if he didn’t really care. No need to tell this Poe character that he was actually glad to get the opportunity to talk to him. “I’m Morap.”

            Poe, still smiling, stretched out a hand and Morap hesitated a moment before shaking it. Poe’s hand felt warm and dry in his own and Morap felt like he really didn’t want to let go right away. But when Poe dropped his hand, Morap followed suit.

            “Shouldn’t I be kissing you instead of shaking your hand?” He asked before he could stop himself and laughed loudly to cover up his embarrassment about what he had just let slip by accident. This wasn’t his style usually. Not at all. But somehow these dark brown eyes, looking at him with something like shock, tempted him like nothing in his life ever had. “You know... just in case she’s looking.” Morap grinned but couldn’t help notice that Poe was a little thrown by his blunder.

            “I think she left...” He tailed off and threw a look at the door. He’d be hard pressed to see her in this crowd. “Thank goodness.”

            Morap took a deep breath, hiding it behind his beer bottle and took a sip. “So you don’t like women that much?”, he guessed, knowing that he was probably testing his luck here.

            Poe shrugged. “I don’t mind exactly,” he said, not really turning back to Morap. “She was just a bit too drunk for my liking.”

            Raising an eyebrow Morap drew up a bar stool and sat down on it so he was sitting next to Poe, who kept sipping at his own beer. Their knees were touching slightly. “Sorry...” Morap made to move away, but Poe shook his head, turning back so he was facing Morap again.

            “That’s fine,” he said, still smiling and cheeks slightly flushed. “You were right. She is still looking at us.”

            Morap couldn’t help but notice how Poe’s eyes twinkled when he smiled. It made his heart flutter. This was insane. Absolutely insane. “You think she knows?” Morap raised his eyebrow again.

            “I think she suspects, but she can’t possibly come back now, can she? I’m not her property.” Ruffling through his hair he spun the bottle in his free hand.

            “I guess not.” Morap couldn’t stop smiling, but for a moment he felt like he should go. He had no idea how to carry on from here. It had never been particularly easy for him to make small talk with people he had never met before. It just wasn’t something you learned when growing up within the First Order. He didn’t want to go, though either. On the contrary. Their knees were still touching and he wanted to see more of that beautiful smile.

            “So...” Poe began and looked over at Morap, one hand on his hip. “I think I should try to get to know my supposed boyfriend.” He winked again and Morap’s heart missed a beat. How could this be possible? “Where are you from?”

            Not a question Morap was particularly fond of, but he was used to providing an answer to it by now. Not a lie exactly, but nothing too specific either. “Unkown Regions. You wouldn’t have heard of it. How about you?”

            “Yavin 4. Hobbies?”

            That was something he still had some problems with. There were certainly a couple of things he liked, but they weren’t hobbies exactly, just things he liked or was particularly good at doing. “Eating, sleeping and making a mess out of everything. Especially my wardrobe and my apartment.” He grinned as if those statements were just a cover for things he was too embarrassed to talk about. “Your turn.”

            Poe laughed and it made his face look even more attractive. The tiny wrinkles around his eyes and the dimples just made Morap want to move closer to him. “So you’re a chaotic person?”

            Shrugging Morap smiled without really providing an answer.

            “So I guess I have to tidy up behind you all the time? Good to know for our dynamic.”

            “I’d never make you clean up my apartment.”

            “You’re not making me do anything.” Poe beamed at him and lifted the bottle to his lips. For a moment Morap wondered what it would be like to pull him closer, to taste the droplets of beer from his lips and shook his head as if to remind himself that he must be going crazy. “What?” Poe laughed, misinterpreting Morap’s headshake.

            “Nothing, just... this is weird.”

            “I know, huh?” Poe put the bottle back on the counter and leaned over conspiratorially. “You know, I’ve never done this before? Asked someone to pretend to be my boyfriend so I could get away from someone I didn’t fancy?”

            The corners of Morap’s mouth lifted in amusement. Their hands were almost touching by now. Morap would only have to lift a finger to be able to stroke Poe’s hand. And he wanted to. He really did. Morap had never before picked up anyone at a bar. He had seen a couple of his colleagues leave with a stranger they had just met before, but not him. Oellyn had been the only person he had ever been with and the only one he’d ever really been attracted to. Until now. And now he was as nervous as he had never been before in his entire life. Or rather: this kind of nervousness was entirely new to him. His heart was still racing and he just wanted to lean over and kiss those tempting lips, but didn’t dare to do anything that might end this encounter before it had really begun. “I’ve never been asked to be someone’s pretend boyfriend before either,” he said, cheeks burning as Poe leaned forward even closer. This was real. This was actually happening! Morap felt like he could literally grasp the tension and didn’t even dare to blink.

            “I think you’re doing really well”, Poe smirked and that was the last straw. Before he could really stop himself Morap had leaned forward and kissed Poe on the lips. It felt like a bolt of lightning had shot through his body, paralyzing him at the same moment that his lips hat touched Poe’s. This was a stranger. A man he knew nothing about but still, this felt incredibly right. Poe’s hand found his and weaved his fingers through his before Morap could really grasp what was going on. Poe pulled him closer towards him and Morap slipped off his stool. His legs felt like they wouldn’t be able to support him and when Poe pulled away, Morap opened his eyes. When exactly had he put his hands on Poe’s hips?

            Breathing fast, Morap wanted to take a step back, but Poe put one hand on his neck and held him in place, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. “Might as well make the most of it?” he asked and he wasn’t smiling now. The look in his eyes froze Morap in place more that the words, or that voice ever could.

            “Huh...”, he made, unable to say anything else, as he leaned in again pressing his lips against Poe’s and savouring the sensation of feeling utterly helpless for the first time in his life. He even forgot about the people surrounding them. About the music blaring in his ears or the fact that this person he was kissing right now with a desperation he had never felt before, would have been his enemy had the stars chosen a different lot for him.

****

****

**A/N:** The lyrcs I posted before actually posting the chapter are from the song “Donna Donna”. I couldn’t help but think of Morap in combination with that song. If you don’t know it, check it out! It’s actually a song about Jews in the Third Reich and about how they had no chance of escaping their fate. Of course it’s a very delicate subject, but I feel like every people living under an oppressive regime can find themselves in this particular song. Morap is no exception and even though this chapter feels a bit more hopeful than the last two, I still know what will happen to him and so do you if you’ve read my story “The Pilot”. That’s why I chose this song. Because it doesn’t only reflect Morap’s struggle against the universe, but also his inabilty to really, truly escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrcs I posted before actually posting the chapter are from the song “Donna Donna”. I couldn’t help but think of Morap in combination with that song. If you don’t know it, check it out! It’s actually a song about Jews in the Third Reich and about how they had no chance of escaping their fate. Of course it’s a very delicate subject, but I feel like every people living under an oppressive regime can find themselves in this particular song. Morap is no exception and even though this chapter feels a bit more hopeful than the last two, I still know what will happen to him and so do you if you’ve read my story “The Pilot”. That’s why I chose this song. Because it doesn’t only reflect Morap’s struggle against the universe, but also his inabilty to really, truly escape.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm going to start translating Chapter 12 from "The Pilot" now and I'm hoping to be able to post it later today.  
> Please leave a comment if you liked this short excursion!


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